11 year old James grew up caught between, and straddled, two worlds: the rich and the poor, the Anglo and the not so Anglo. In other words, it was a very Sydney childhood.
He attended the local public school where classrooms were full, but the teachers were dedicated. He had the delicate skin of his mother and the eyes of his father. His friends were from countries all over the world including children of refugees. They were his mates and they played and fought each other regardless of what they looked like or how they spoke. Their character mattered more than their background.
His mother worked as a government employee in Parramatta and commuted every day by train to her workplace. On Sundays, she would drive their hatchback to the northern suburbs of Sydney where his grandparents lived in a three storey Federation house next to the harbour.
Growing up, he remembered spending most of his days at Grandpa John and Grandma Frances's place before he started kindergarten. He still had his own bedroom there, which was his mother's.
He would rarely see his mother during these times because she was studying for her MBA. However, she managed to graduate just before he turned five and started school, and soon after her graduation she found a job at a government department. Working single mothers weren't considered unusual at her workplace and her job gave her enough flexibility so that she could send him to after school care and pay for his extracurricular activities: rugby, music, swimming, cricket, scouts and so many others.
His retired grandpa John would take him to these activities, but sometimes his aunt Jane and her husband Charles would accompany him too as his mother was usually working or was too exhausted to drive him to places after work. In particular, his Saturday mornings were spent playing rugby during winter, and cricket during summer.
Every week he'd have music lessons on voice, violin and piano. In this regard, he took after his mother. She was a classically-trained musician but she rarely played at home because the walls were thin. Anyway, his grandparents' place had a dedicated music studio where he could even bang on his drum set to his heart's content.
He knew he was privileged to have such rich grandparents but he also felt the absence of a father in his life. His mother rarely discussed his father George. He knew that his dad was training to be a doctor but she would always change the subject every time he asked about him. There was a photo album with photos of his parents together but it was tucked away. Photos of her mother and him dominated their living room.
Their flat was cosy, noisy and drama filled but he loved it. It was the home of his father's grandparents and his mother told him it would belong to him when he was 18. He didn't know what this meant but he knew he loved walking down the busy streets of his flat exploring and tasting the different foods of each restaurant. When he was with his Grandpa John, they'd visit a new restaurant and try out the different foods and spices of each cuisine - some they'd like to try again, others not.
He never wanted to leave his mates, his street and his neighbourhood. He was James Chen, son of Lizzy and he loved the vibrancy of Western Sydney. This was the best place in the world and he couldn't wait to see his mates at school tomorrow!